102 CAMP FIRE REMINISCENCES 
a placer mine near by, and it was very interesting 
to see the industrious Chinamen busy with their 
flumes and sluices. 
About ten, everything being ready, we started 
up a trail which followed the creek some distance 
through Slaughter House Gulch, and passing a 
quartz mill, struck into the forest. No one had 
ever cut a branch or chopped a log to improve the 
trail, so it was bad. Great trees lay across in 
places; sometimes we went around them and some- 
times climbed over. As there were nine of us and 
a total of seventeen horses straggling along, our 
troubles soon began. One horse would wander 
down the mountain, and another up, while others 
would try to roll their packs off, and I saw one 
caught between two trees, so it was heart-breaking 
trying to keep them going. In discussing the com- 
missary before leaving, some one suggested bring- 
ing stuff called ‘‘force,’’ and our Wyoming man, 
having been given carte blanche, had ordered quite 
alotofit. The ‘‘force’’ was put up in square card- 
board boxes, and when these were ‘‘cinched’’ on a 
pack horse, of course they burst. As the horse 
jolted along, the ‘‘force’’ came out in puffs, keeping 
that particular animal well in view. I picked up 
a box of sardines by the trail, and the eight fish it 
contained were put to my credit as the first fish 
taken on the trip. 
At noon we camped for lunch on the summit, and 
from there had a splendid view. Far away below 
us was the South Fork of the Salmon River, where 
we expected to camp that night. I noticed at a 
